Nonsense
by Medicinal Biscuit
Summary: Basically, this is just a collection of whatever CRACK pops into my head. Stories are about all characters, and range from drabbles to more developed plot lines. Language warning. I'LL TAKE YOUR REQUESTES! Updated upon inspiration.
1. The Meatloaf

**The Meatloaf**

**-Team 10-**

**x x x **

"I now understand why sensei usually takes us _out_ to eat," Shikamaru said solemnly.

"But...w-what... _is _that?" Ino asked, voicing what they had all been wondering.

Ino, Shikamaru, and Chouji were standing in their sensei's kitchen, staring down at the grotesque culinary disaster that would likely be the death of them. For there, sitting on the counter in all it's horrid, pink, slimy glory, was a gigantic, raw pile of meat in a glass dish, just waiting to be cooked.

"I think it's supposed to be a meatloaf," answered Shikamaru finally.

Ino and Chouji both shuddered; the former looking revolted, the latter, deeply offended.

"You two do realize the significance of this, don't you?" Shikamaru gravely intoned.

"Yeah..."Chouji, due to some kind of morbid fascination, seemed unable to draw his eyes away from the lump of raw meat. "It's got little green bits in it..."

Rolling his eyes, Shikamaru whacked him upside the head.

"No. Even worse than that."

The two stared at him questioningly.

"_That _is what our trusted sensei plans on feeding us for dinner," he said, a doom-laden expression overtaking his features.

For Ino, the horror was too great: she clapped both hands to her mouth and gasped, staggering backwards. Chouji simply closed his eyes and shook his head.

"That's just sick," he whispered.

A steely, slightly maniac glint appeared in Ino's pale eyes as she pulled herself together, saying desperately, "We-we've got to get rid of it!"

Chouji nodded enthusiastically, while Shikamaru muttered, "Ugh, I knew this would be troublesome"

Ino went on, "Sensei's gone into the bathroom with the crossword puzzle, so we all know what that means. I'd say we have about fifteen minutes to get rid of this and destroy the evidence."

The two nodded curtly and Shikamaru picked up the meatloaf; his face turning a peculiar green color. He cautiously headed for the trashcan, but Ino's shrill voice cut him off.

"_Not there!_ That's the first place he'll look! Besides, give it a few hours, and you'll be able to smell that from here to Suna!"

Sighing in irritation, Shikamaru then headed to the sink, but was once again stopped, this time by Chouji.

"No garbage disposal has the power to grind up something that gnarly."

Shikamaru just stared at them both incredulously, and slammed the meatloaf down on the table; the force of the impact making it jiggle disgustingly.

"Well_ you_ think of something then!"

"Oh, I already have..." said Ino softly.

Her two male teammates exchanged nervous glances.

**x x x**

"_Oh, Kiba! There you are! Why don't you walk the dogs, it's not like you have a LIFE or anything!" _

Kiba stalked angrily down the streets of Konoah, shrilly yelling in a horrible impression of his mother, with five dogs on a leash in front of him, and Shino in tow.

"I mean, honestly, who does she think she is? I'm fifteen now, I can do what I want! I have a job and everything, I shouldn't just have to- to_ submit to her will!"_

His teammate raised an eyebrow. "'Submit to her will,' Kiba? Isn't that just a tad melodramatic?"

"Oh, you know what I mean!" Snapped Kiba, still obviously miffed. "She treats me like such a child!"

The Aburame sighed. "I would be careful, if I were you. You're just setting yourself up for something bad."

But Kiba. still muttering darkly under his breath, was clearly not paying attention.

**x x x **

"Are you sure about this, Ino?"

Chouji looked doubtfully out of the two-story window at the alleyway below. The three were now kneeling together on their sensei's bed; the current bane of their existence balanced precariously on the windowsill before them.

"Tell me honestly, Chouji: Do you want to eat this for dinner?"

His expression hardened.

"Let's do this shit."

"Right," said Shikamaru, "Help me lift it."

He and Ino both took hold of a handle of the glass dish and turned it on end. The mass of raw meat just sat there, glistening ominously in the evening sun, until with a stomach-churning squelching sound, it finally slipped out of the dish, and plopped onto the street below. The three shinobi simultaneously gagged.

"The dark deed is done," said Chouji with an air of finality.

Just then, an earsplitting chorus of howling erupted from a few streets away; rapidly growing nearer. The three simply stayed where they were for a few moments; waiting to see what would happen.

"Ugh, come on, guys, we don't wanna be caught at the scene of the crime," Shikamaru finally said, flinging the glass dish out of the window.

The three then made a mad dash for the living room and plopped down on the couch.

**x x x**

A few minutes had gone by, and Kiba and Shino were just rounding a corner when all of a sudden the dogs stopped dead; five black noses set aquiver.

"Huh, that's weir-" began Kiba, only to be cut off when, without warning, the dogs took off, careening across a few streets; dragging Kiba, who had been caught _completely_ off his guard, after them. Shino followed all the way. Finally, the dogs emerged into a narrow alley, and jumped eagerly on a pile of raw meat.

Panting like crazy, Kiba couldn't help but smile.

"Of course, I don't know why I didn't smell it when they did."

"You were probably too busy griping to pay attention," Shino muttered.

Scratching his head, the Inuzuka straightened up. "What I don't get is why there's a random pile of meat in the middle of thi-"

He was silenced yet again; this time by a glass serving dish covered in meat juice which was flung from a two-story window- gleaming briefly in the bloody light of sunset- before smacking Kiba soundly on the head. Needless to say he was knocked out cold.

Shino simply shook his head, muttering,

"Karma."

**x x x**

The wet sound of a toilet flush brought Ino, Shikamaru, and Chouji out of the euphoria of their victory against the meatloaf, as Asuma finally emerged from the bathroom, a piece of toilet paper trailing from his shoe. He was scratching his head with the butt end of his pencil.

"Hey guys, what's a eight letter word for 'nasty'?"

His former students just grinned broadly at him and shrugged in answer- all thinking the exact same thing.

_Meatloaf._

**x x x**


	2. The Ice Storm

**The Ice Storm**

**-Sasuke and Suigetsu-**

**x x x**

"Hn"

Sasuke's breath billowed out before him- suspended eerily in the freezing air of the early morning. Beside him, Suigetsu let out a low whistle.

"Daaaamn. That musta been some storm last night."

They regarded the scene before them: a metal bridge spanning a sheer drop that ended in a rocky gorge some several hundred feet below. Sasuke and Suigetsu had no choice but to cross it, which wouldn't really be a problem on any other day. Unfortunately, today the nascent sunlight revealed a very substantial problem indeed; the bridge was glistening all over with deadly black ice. There was simply no way around it.

Nodding firmly to each other, the boys took a cautious step onto the slick surface of the bridge- hands flung out; bracing themselves for the worst. Cautiously, step by step, they edged their way over the bridge. It was right about when they got to the middle that things took a turn for the worst.

"Slow down, Sasuke, do you have a death wish or something?"

The white haired boy regarded the Uchiha next to him, who was plowing on doggedly- a determined glint in his dark eyes.

"Hn. Suigetsu, we can't afford to miss this contact. I think we can risk speeding it up a litt-ALLL!"

Without warning, Sasuke lost his footing, and he fell with an echoing crash right on his butt. He somehow managed to regain his feet, only to slide again and collide forcefully with the metal barrier. Suigetsu watched with bated breath as the winded Uchiha teetered forward, the entire top half of his body hanging out over the drop- his arms flailing pathetically in his direction. Finally, just when it seemed he was about to plunge to his death, one of Sasuke's hands made contact with Suigetsu's hair. With an almighty heave, the Uchiha counterbalanced and pulled himself back onto the bridge, firmly latching himself to Suigetsu's chest- panting and shaking. The mist nin was almost sure he heard a whimper.

Suigetsu just stood there awkwardly as the Konoha traitor buried his face in his chest- too afraid of what might happen to attempt to break the Uchiha's death grip. Finally deciding that maybe he should comfort Sasuke, the mist nin cautiously raised a hand, and tenderly stroked the shorter boy's dark hair- just once.

That seemed to snap Sasuke out of it. He roughly pushed away from Suigetsu and shook his head- his face composed into a sort of indignant pout. He was trying with all he had to make it look like he had meant to do that all along. The two just stood there for a while, and finally Suigetsu couldn't hold it in any longer. He snorted, and then began howling in laughter.

Sasuke was supremely offended, but tried regardless to pull off his usual icy indifference. Suigetsu, by now, was doubled over practically screaming in mirth.

"Hn."

Suigetsu looked up just in time to see the Uchiha flick his hair and mutter coldly, "Whatever," before stalking on across the bridge with as much dignity as he could muster; unable to keep himself from sliding just a little. Suigetsu collapsed into fits of mad laughter.

The mist nin relaxed, laying on his side on the icy bridge, spasms of uncontrollable laughter still shaking his body. Sure, he had almost been pulled off of a bridge to his death by his hair, but it had all been worth it, just to see that look on Sasuke's face.

**x x x**

**I'm writing this at about nine in the morning because my school was closed because of ice. This is really unusual, because I live in the south, I can't even remember the last time we had a snow day. There have been over 350 car wrecks in my area in less than four hours. It's crazy! Anyways, hope you liked it! Just a cute little crack drabble inspired by the weather.**


	3. The Rat

**The Rat**

**-Team Gai-**

**x x x**

"Lee?"

Rock Lee briefly stopped his spirited attack on the mega tub of extra double choco crunch ice cream to shoot a questioning look at his teammate; spoon sticking out of his mouth at a strange angle.

The already pronounced furrows on Neji's brow became even deeper as he calmly said,

"Could you come here for a moment?"

Lee wordlessly stood up and followed the other through their hotel suite into the bathroom adjacent to the Hyuuga's room. Neji mutely pointed to the bathtub, which was concealed by shower curtains; a look of clear distaste marring his features. Lee raised an enormous eyebrow.

"Could you tell me what you see?"

Setting his tub of ice cream down on the counter, Lee warily pulled back the ugly floral patterned curtains and looked down. He grimaced, feeling slightly sick.

"Lovely. That's just perfectly lovely."

Neji nodded grimly in agreement.

Floating prostrate in the greenish waters of the half-full bathtub was an insanely huge black rat- dead and decaying. A group of flies surrounded it, buzzing eagerly.

"It looks like it's been there for a while now," Neji pointed out- rather unnecessarily.

"Yeaaaaaah," Lee agreed, wrinkling his nose and reaching for his ice cream once again. "Well, I'll just be going then" He turned to leave the room.

"Wait."

Lee turned back around only to see Neji looking at him expectantly, one perfect eyebrow raised. HIs teammate stated uncomprehendingly at him for a moment, before saying incredulously.

"You don't _actually_ expect me to...?"

Neji just nodded.

Lee sighed, and said firmly,

"Neji, I know we are teammates and that we're supposed to help each other out and all, but I'm _not_ going to fish a dead rat out of a bathtub for you."

The Hyuuga scoffed.

"Well I'm certainly not going to touch it, which means you'll have to do it."

Lee looked affronted.

"Why should I have to do it? You do it!

"I'm not touching that thing"

"Well _I'm _not touching it either!"

"You do it!"

"_You_ do it!"

"You do it!"

_"Fine!"_

Lee threw his spoon down with a bit more force than needed. Pushing Neji none too gently out of the way, he reached over the toilet and grabbed the plunger.

"And just what do you intend to do with that?" came Neji's patronizing voice.

"Do you want me to do it, or not?" Lee asked hotly.

Screwing up his face in disgust, Lee looked the other way as he slowly lowered the plunger towards the stinking rodent corpse. He gently prodded the rat, which eerily floated a few more inches to the left. Lee made the mistake of glancing intot the bathtub, blanched, and lost his nerve.

"I can't do it."

"Well I'm not touching it, so I'm not going to be the one to get it out!"

"Neji, I believe we've established that."

"Then just do it already!"

"No! _You_ do it!"

"You do it!"

"_YOU_ do it!"

_"Oh for God's sake, you two!"_

Tenten had appeared at the door, looking throughly exasperated. Pushing past her two stunned teammates, she knelt deftly at the bathtub, and proceeded to fish the rat out with something horribly orange and fuzzy. Holding the stinking, dripping bundle at arms length, she quickly left, and the boys were sure they heard the sound of a dresser drawer closing, and no more than a few seconds later, Tenten returned.

"Oh, don't look at me like that!" She demanded, taking in their flabbergasted expressions. "You two were acting ridiculous, and you know it! It was just a rat; you're _shinobi_ for crying out loud!"

Neji and Lee now seemed appropriately embarrassed. In the midst of the awkward silence that ensued, Neji picked up Lee's spoon, and casually began eating the ice cream.

"Tenten?" Lee asked, as a sudden thought struck him, "What was that orange thing you used to fish the rat out with?"

An evil gleam appeared in Tenten's usually warm brown eyes.

"Oh, just one of sensei's leg warmers," she answered innocently.

Lee looked scandalized and Neji almost choked.

**x x x **

A blood-crutling scream wrenched through the gloom of the early morning, as someone shouted,

_"GOOD GOD ALMIGHTY!"_

Doors slammed all over the hotel as everyone rushed out into the halls to see what could have possibly caused so much ruckus at 4:30 in the morning.

Tenten, however, just smiled slightly in her sleep and rolled over.

**x x x **


	4. The Clapper

**The Clapper**

**-Tobi and Deidara-**

**Dedicated to ShadowSilk. **

**I have the feeling you'll like this one, Shadow...**

**x x x **

_Clap Clap_

_Hehehehehehehehehe!_

The lights flickered on, illuminating a blonde who was just about at the end of his rope.

_Clap Clap_

_Hahahahahahahahaha!_

The lights flickered back off.

Sprawled out and bedraggled in the unnatural glow of the digital alarm clock, Deidara looked absolutely terrible; he was lying on his side, his only clothing (a pair of pajama pants) wrinkled and stained. His hair was sticking up all over the place, and a faint line of drool ran down his chin. Blinking thickly through clouded blue eyes, one of which seemed to have developed a spastic twitch, he glared at the red neon face of the digital clock.

_3:29 am._

He groaned and pressed his hands to his eyes. It had been a few seconds, maybe the novelty had _finally_ worn off.

_Clap Clap_

_Hehehehehehehehe!_

Or not.

"Senpai! Hey, hey, Senpai!"

Squinting in the bright light, the bomber groaned,

"What, Tobi, I'm right here, what the hell do you _want_, un?!"

His partner giggled; the shrill sound raping the exhausted blonde's ears.

_Please, God, just make it stop._

"Isn't this cool, Deidara- senpai?!" Tobi asked excitedly.

"I dunno, Tobi, it might have been cool the first time, but after _SEVEN_ hours, I think the '_coolness level'_ just might have gone down a little, un!

There was a hysterical note to Deidara's voice that even Tobi noticed.

"Senpai, are you _sleeeeeepy_? I know you get cranky when you don't get your beauty sleep!"

The right side of Deidara's body twitched spasmodically.

"Yes, I suppose you could say that, seeing as I just haven't seemed to be able to get to sleep for some_ strange_ reason."

You could almost hear a faint _whoosh_ as the biting sarcasm went right over Tobi's head.

"You must be suffering from insomnia, Senpai," said Tobi, his tone grave.

Deidara had to bite his arm with his hand-mouth to stop himself from lunging at Tobi with murderous intent. Even though he was almost positive Pein would agree to his pleadings of justifiable homicide.

A light gasp startled the explosives specialist out of his thoughts.

"I know Senpai! You try to relax, while I go and make you a big cup of tea! That ought to put you to sleep for sure! I'll be right back!"

_Clap Clap_

_Hahahaha!_

Tobi's voice came drifting out of the darkness.

"Oh Senpai, isn't it just like a dream?"

"The way you use it, Tobi, it becomes more like an epileptic's nightmare," Deidara muttered.

As soon as he was sure his partner was gone, Deidara leapt furiously to his feet. He had approximately five minutes to destroy the electrical menace, and he would be damned before he let a second go to waste.

Stealing out into the darkness of the night, the blonde disappeared down the corridor, only to return a few seconds later. Quietly closing the door behind him, he surveyed the room with bleary eyes; his hand now enclosed around the handle of Hidan's enormous scythe, which glinted evilly in the bloody glow of the alarm clock,

Running swiftly to the corner of the room, he shoved a poster out of the way to reveal the electrical box- thanking whatever higher powers there were that it was located in his room. Raising the scythe in a great arc, he relished the satisfying slicing sound that cut through the air as the monstrous blades ripped apart the sold steel as though it were so much paper. The blonde grinned at the tangle of wires now visible- a demonic gleam in his eye.

"Now then, unnn, which one of these cute little wires cuts off the power in this room?"

Trusting what he deemed his infallible intuition, the bomber threw caution to the winds, and hefting the scythe into the air once again, he completely demolished the box. He turned and flew out of the room, barley managing to suppress a laugh of triumph. He had barely gotten back into bed, when he heard the pitter patter of Tobi's footsteps.

"Senpai? Are you relaxed? Am I waking you up?" Tobi's grating whisper could probably wake the dead. The soft clatter of china rang through the room, as Tobi undoubtedly set the teacup down.

"Senpai, I can hardly see you in the dark."

Tobi raised his hands, and Deidara smirked in dark satisfaction.

_Clap Clap_

And the lights flickered back on.

_YYYYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH!!_

_Hahahaha!_

"Oh, Deidara-senpai, it never gets old."

But the blonde didn't hear him. With a mad cry, he had rushed into the bathroom, and was currently trying to drown himself in the toilet.

"Hmm, must have been a tummy bug!" Tobi said knowingly. He yawned hugely. "Well time for bed!"

_Clap Clap_

_Hehehehe!_

And the lights flickered back off.

**x x x**

**This one's gotta be my favorite. I hope you enjoyed it! I have SO many more ideas for this...stay tuned!**


	5. The Laundromat

**Notes: MAJOR CRACK!**

**The Laundromat**

**A Story of Terrorists, Naruto, and Laundry**

**xxx**

"Again! Ugh, I swear to God, Where the bloody _hell_ do they go?!" Suigetsu gazed forlornly at the single white sock in his pallid hand- the flashing neon lights of city tinting both fantastic colors. "I even stapled these together too."

The nuke-nin was currently standing in a slummy suburb of Konoha at a decrepit, woefully out of date laundromat at 2:37 in the morning. Muttering darkly under his breath, Suigetsu began sorting his newly- washed laundry.

"Of course we can't do laundry at _normal_ hours, oh _nooo_. Damn Sasuke-_sama_ and his damn _infallibility_." He put on a pompous voice in a bad imitation of Sasuke, " 'Hn. Suigetsu, we do not have time to stop. And even if we did, laundry is a recreational activity to be done on one's own time. I will not have you slowing up the team, just because your underwear needs washi-' SHIT!" Suigetsu, having majorly spazzed out due to an excessive use of finger quotes, dropped his sock under the bench. He bent to retrieve it, continuing his rant all the while.

"Of course the little bastard manages to stay spotless and clean 110 percent of the time...he just likes making us feel pathetic. The bratty little sick-o gets some kinda twisted pleasure out of mindfucking us," Suigetsu continued angrily, setting his sock aside and slamming the washing machine door on his second load of laundry. The sharp sound reverberated more loudly than it should have around the cramped, dingy room; the washer door was not the only one to have been slammed. Suigetsu looked toward the front door.

A very tired looking shinobi dragged himself to the machine next to Suigetsu's and rather unexpectedly began stripping. As black silk embroidered with red clouds fell prey to the grimy floor, the other finally noticed Suigetsu's presence. He looked up silently and met the curious pale eyes before unabashedly taking off his shirt. Suigetsu couldn't resist.

"Hey, I know I'm hot, but most people at least introduce themselves before taking off their clothes."

The blonde shinobi gave him a look that clearly said, 'I would normally tell you to do things to yourself that aren't even anatomically possible, but am too tired,' and continued taking off layer after layer of clothing until he was standing there in his underclothes: consisting of black leggings and a mesh shirt. Regarding his new companion and his obviously exhausted state, Suigetsu decided to push the poor soul's patience.

"So you seriously have no problems with stripping in front of random strangers, or is that what you do for a living?"

When the other still continued to be unresponsive, and in Suigetsu's sights, plain boring, the nuke-nin settled on a different approach. Ponderously sipping crisp water through a straw, he stared pensively at the discarded cloak that was now floating in the murky waters of the dark wash. A moment later, he conversationally remarked, "I wonder how much the famed 'Terrorist Bomber of the Akatsuki' is worth?"

Ah, finally, a response.

Deidara swung around, his hair glimmering in an arc of golden light, pinning the former mist nin swiftly to the ground. He bent over and whispered harshly,

"It doesn't matter how much I'm worth, because you're not gonna turn me in, un."

"Oh, really?" Suigetsu raised a fine eyebrow, defiant smirk in place.

"No, because only three types of people come to all-night laundromats: People who work weird hours, creepos who like to steal ladies' underwear, and missing nins and general criminals, un. Judging by that huge-ass sword you haven't bothered to hide, you're probably either just as guilty_ and_ as valuable as I am, or else a freakishly violent panty thief, un."

The two young men stared at each other; one defensive, and the other amused, until Deidara

slowly released his death grip on Suigetsu's arms and sat up cautiously; never breaking eye contact.

Still kneeling in front of Suigetsu, Deidara extended a hand and intoned, "Agreed, un?"

To which Suigetsu replied cheerily, "Sure thing, Blondie," taking the other male's hand in his own, "I _was_ just kidding after all." He broke contact, and both rose from their positions on the floor. Deidara moved to another machine, keeping the silence that had fallen, and shoved the rest of his discarded clothes that hadn't fit into the first load into it. He slammed the door, which once again sounded too sharply throughout the room. With a remarkable sense of déjà vu overtaking them, Suigetsu and Deidara turned to the door.

Amazingly, yet another tired blonde boy was carried through the door by none other than Uchiha Itachi himself.

Deidara and Suigetsu exchanged bemused looks. Itachi, acting as though this was just another monday night trip to the laundromat, and that the enemy shinobi he carried in his arms was just another bag of dirty laundry, ambled over and gently deposited Naruto on an empty bench. With the utmost of care, Itachi slowly unzipped the unconscious boy's jacket and lifted his limp form off the bench, removing the jacket and throwing it into the wash. Cradling the boy's blonde head almost tenderly, Itachi set him back down on the bench, and began the same process with the pants.

His bemusement rapidly growing to confusion, Deidara looked to Suigetsu who had somehow produced a box of crackerjacks to go with his water, and was now spectating the unfolding events. Feeling very much like he was missing something obvious, Deidara finally asked, "Itachi-san?"

The Uchiha looked up and nonchalantly replied, "Yes, Deidara-kun?"

Stifling laughter, Suigetsu watched the encounter, munching on cracker jacks and sipping his water. Smiling wickedly around the straw in his mouth, he thought of what Sasuke would say if he were here.

In ultimate confusion, Deidara continued, "What in God's name are you doing?"

"I have captured Naruto-kun, " Itachi said simply, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world and didn't even merit voicing.

"No shit, un," Deidara said, confusion rapidly fading to irritation, "But what are you doing _here_?"

"Well isn't it obvious?" Came the infuriating answer.

Suigetsu snorted.

"Well excuse me for failing to see why you choose to take the boy you've been trying to capture for over three years to a_ laundromat _after you finally manage to get him in your grasp, un. Maybe I'm just dense. "

Holding Naruto's undershirt in his hand, Itachi said, with the air of explaining something to a three year old, "I didn't want him to be dirty when I took him to Pein-sama."

All three stared at each other in the tense moment that followed.

"What the fuck?" Deidara replied incredulously. "That makes NO sense, un! But if you wanted him to be clean so bad, then why the hell didn't you just dunk him a river or something!"

"Because Naruto-kun was difficult to capture. Therefore he has earned my respect as an enemy, and deserves better than to be dunked in a cold river." Itachi's tone was almost defensive.

"You KNOW it's three in the morning when you start hearing logic like _that_, un," Deidara sighed, laying down on the bench.

By this time, Naruto had been stripped down to his fish-patterned boxers. Companionably, almost, Itachi left him and came and sat beside Deidara. "So, Deidara-kun, what brings you here at this time of night?"

"Well, un, I had just finished up a little recon mission on the border of the fire country and decide-" but sadly, that was as far as he got as the sharp slam of the door echoed around the room for a last time. Karin stood at the entryway, her eyes darting about in alarm.

"Suigetsu!" She whispered harshly, "I was coming to see what was taking you so long. If only I had known that you've been detaining the enemy this whole time!"

At the sound of his name, the former mist-nin's head jerked up from where he had been drowsing off. Spewing half-chewed crackerjacks out of his mouth he intelligently inquired, "Huh?"

"That's Uchiha Itachi!" Karin hissed, magnified eyes nearly popping out of her head.

Itachi's pallid lips parted in a small gasp of understanding. "Ah, I see. The two of you must be part of my brother's _adorable _little organization created to kill me. Very well then, I shall humor you. Deidara-kun. Watch Naruto-kun until I return for him."

"Che, what makes you so sure you're gonna be returning!" Karin said cockily. She launched a kunai at Itachi, which he effortlessly parried. "Suigetsu, get your butt over here and help me out! " The girl yelled as Itachi's form flickered into a murder of crows, encircling her and forcing her out into the night.

Sighing and rolling his pale eyes, Suigetsu stood up and stretched, taking a sip of water. He turned to Deidara who was sitting on the bench trying to figure out if someone had slipped something strange into one of his drinks.

Cordially tipping the crackerjack box at the terrorist, Suigetsu said, "Here's to you, Blondie, a little token of our meeting, " before handing Deidara the box, grabbing his sword, and walking calmly out the door- lost to the night.

A full fifteen minutes later, even after the sounds of the battle had faded to silence, Deidara was still to be found sitting in the exact same spot. Not because he was honoring Itachi's request, but because he was still trying to, for the life of him, make some sense out of what had just happened. A small groan alerted his attention, and with a gasp, he realized that Naruto was waking up.

One big blue eye cracked lazily open as the boy shifted and sat up. Looking around the room blearily, Naruto finally focused on the tense figure of the other blonde. Squinting he slowly identified his sole companion.

"Deidara..?" Said terrorist watched with annoyance as a flicker of anger and recognition flashed in the younger male'e eyes. To his exasperation, Naruto began looking around for a weapon."Look, Naruto, there's really nothing to be gained from fighting here. How bout, you don't try to kill me and I won't try to kill you, and we both walk out of here like nothing happened. Agreed, un?"

Warily looking at the offered hand, Naruto locked his blue eyes with Deidara's. The two held each other in a stare for a moment, until Naruto finally grasped the mouthed hand, and repeated, "Agreed."

They released hands, and Naruto finally took in his surroundings. Deidara watched as the boy's brow furrowed as he regarded the laundromat, the machines full of clothes, the various weapons littering the floor, and the fact that both he and his companion were in their underwear. Standing up to come sit on the bench beside Deidara, Naruto asked, "What the hell happened?"

The elder blonde sighed and threw an arm around the other's shoulders. Leaning on his head on Naruto's own, Deidara simply responded, "I don't know, Naruto-kun. I really don't, un."

They lapsed into silence, serenely watching the swirling garments and listening to the gentle hum of the machines; content with their temporary truce. Shaking the box he still held in his hand, as if to prove to himself that the whole thing had been real, Deidara extended it towards Naruto.

"Crackerjack?"

**Notes: Well then...It's been a while since i've gone that heavy on the crack. If anyone has any questions on my second unexplained hiatus, please check out my updated profile. There, you'll also find my planned update date for "When Carpools Get Ugly" as well as some of my future plans for that fic, both of which i am sure you will find satisfactory.**

**BISCUIT**


	6. The Surprise

**The Surprise**

**- In which two boys and a dog attempt to do something nice...and end up killing dreams-**

**x x x**

With a glint of steely determination in his eyes, he surveyed the various utensils lined up on the counter. Cradling a cookbook to his chest as though it were a precious holy manuscript, Kiba called out to his companion.

"Shino! Quit creepin around in the pantry. Just grab the box so we can get on with it! I told her to be here at 3:30, so we only have an hour."

Shooting Kiba a look of disdain, Shino slunk out of the pantry, wordlessly holding out a small, colorful cardboard box. Turning to face Shino and Akamaru, who had just woken up from a quick nap, Kiba announced,

"Today, Gentlemen, we have a task at hand- a mission unlike any other. One that will tax our intellects to the breaking point. Today, we're gonna make a double chocolate fudge cake with ice cream for Hinata's birthday."

Shino receded further into the darkness of his hood, making his expression unreadable and Akamaru barked in agreement.

"Time to designate duties!" Kiba proclaimed, slamming the cookbook firmly down on the counter.

"Akamaru! You're the official tester. You'll taste everything to make sure Hinata will like it. We won't be requiring your services for a while, so you can go back to your nap."

Akamaru woofed happily and ran eagerly back to his patch of sunshine, causing the kitchen to shake with his foot falls.

"Shino! You'll be mixing the dry ingredients, and I'll be mixing the wet ingredients. I read up on baking last night, and found out you're supposed to do it _separately_." Kiba excitedly picked up a whisk.

Shino, who was pulling on a pair of gloves, snapped the latex against his skin. "Your knowledge of the culinary arts astounds me, Kiba."

Kiba grinned happily, the biting sarcasm flying right over his head. "Thanks, buddy! Let's get to work!" He grabbed a purple apron and, tying it around his waist with a flourish, ran to the fridge to grab some eggs. He began cracking them much too violently into a metal baking pan, carelessly leaving the empty egg carton on the counter as he moved on to the butter.

Shino, meanwhile, was over in the darkest corner of the kitchen with his own little pan carefully studying the box of cake mix. Upon discovering that all of the dry ingredients needed were already in the mix, he tore open the box and unceremoniously dumped the powder into the pan.

"Done, " he announced, peeling off the gloves.

Kiba stopped his frantic whisking and turned an egg splattered face to his teammate. "Great! Then you can help me!"

"Or I could go to the bathroom, " Shino said, already drifting down the hall. "Try not to break anything while I'm gone."

Kiba merely shrugged good-naturedly and consulted his list of ingredients, wiping a forearm across his sweaty brow.

"Okay, eggs and butter down. All we need now is milk, vegetable oil, and Pam No-Sitck, whatever the hell_ that_ is. Awesome!"

Kiba yanked open the refrigerator door and began rifling through its contents. Grabbing the first carton he saw and sniffing it slightly, he tucked it under his arm. He was just closing the door when something caught his eye. "Mmm, marshmallow cream!" He said, noticing the jar of white fluff. "Looks yummy!" He picked up the cream and took both that and the carton back to the pan.

"Okay, " he muttered to himself, tilting the carton slowly, poised to pour, "says here I need two and a half cups- " He tipped the carton slightly, and the entire liter came sloshing into the pan. "- or the whole carton," Kiba finished, " That works too."

Opening the jar of marshmallow cream, he turned it on end and held it expectantly over the pan. When nothing happened after a few seconds, he tried smacking the bottom of the jar a few times, and the cream finally came out in one sticky glob.

Carelessly throwing the empty jar and carton onto the counter, Kiba proclaimed, "Well, now that we're done with that, time to combine."

He poured Shino's pan of powder into his his own baking dish and began whisking furiously. Eyeing the still-lumpy mixture thoughtfully after a few minutes of whisking, Kiba decided it was ready to bake. "Whoops!" he muttered, "Almost forgot the Pam No-Stick!"

He began rooting through the cupboards, leaving a substantial trail of destruction in his wake. Finally, he unearthed the yellow can. Staring at it skeptically, as if questioning its worth, Kiba shrugged, gave the can a good shake, and sprayed a generous amount right into the cake mix.

"Haven't got a clue what that's supposed to do, but the recipe don't lie!" He was just shoving the cake mix into the oven, when Shino cautiously stuck his head around the corner, checking to see if the coast was clear- probably a wise decision seeing as Kiba had been loose in the kitchen for ten whole minutes.

**x x x**

Fifteen minutes later, the dull monotony was broken by the light ding of the kitchen timer. Kiba sprang up, beaming, and sashayed towards the oven pulling on a pair of yellow polka dotted oven mitts- Shino hovering in dark disapproval behind him all the way. Gleefully, Kiba tugged open the oven door, and his joyous expression fell into one of almost comical grief. Shino peered over his shoulder with the faint air of horrified disgust.

"Eww," was the unanimous sentiment.

For there in the oven was a mass of kind of chocolately goop with random lumps and pieces of eggshell clearly visible. Kiba solemnly took out his ruined creation.

"There's NO way I'm feeding this to Akamaru. Where did I go wrong!?"

Ignoring the fact that Kiba's question had been rhetorical, Shino began studying the mess Kiba had left on the counter.

"Well, let's see."

"Oh, shove it, Shino. I'm not in the mood to play, 'Let's Count the ways Kiba Fucked up!' "

"But that's my favorite game, " Shino said dryly. He picked up the carton Kiba had used, examined it briefly, and shook his head in disappointment.

"Kiba, did you even read the carton?"

The other snorted unpleasantly. "Pff, it's a white carton that was in the refrigerator. What else could it be except milk?"

"Hmm, maybe four-month-old low-fat eggnog."

"WHAT?! That shouldn't even be in the fridge in the first place, so I don't see how it's my fault. Hinata should have thrown that away when it expired."

Ignoring Kiba's illogical excuses, Shino continued looking through the mess on the counter.

"Marshmallow cream? In a cake? _Seriously?_"

"It looked yummy!" Kiba exclaimed, attempting to defend his cooking skills.

"And it looks like you completely forgot the vegetable oil, plus you misused the pam-no-stick, this stuff is glued to the pan," Shino grunted, attempting to pry the cake out of the baking dish with a spatula.

Sighing, Kiba rubbed his face with his hand, seemingly resigned. "What the hell are we gonna do now?"

From the other side of the kitchen, Akamaru, who had been watching the whole thing from a distance, nervously slunk under a chair; worried that he would have to eat the disaster that had once been a cake.

" 'Not give it to Hinata' would be the obvious choice," Shino remarked, idly picking an eggshell out of the cake with a knife.

You could almost hear the ding as a light bulb went off over Kiba's head. He paced over to the cake- pulling it out of Shino's grasp and regarding it thoughtfully. "Why not? Why shouldn't we go ahead and give it to her?"

"Are you stupid?" Shino asked, a faint air of dismay clear in his expression.

"Yeah!" Kiba excitedly muttered, ignoring the insult, "We could put like a crapload of cool whip, and ice cream, and hot fudge on it, with a bunch of candles, and she'll never notice, right?"

Shino stared evenly at Kiba, his eyebrows knitted together in perplexity at his teammate's utter stupidity. "No," he said plainly.

"Great!" Kiba grinned. "I'll grab the fudge, Shino prepare the cool whip!" Kiba charged at the fridge, exuberantly extracting the fudge and, squeezing into a plastic bowl, covered it in tin foil, and popped it in the microwave.

Shino reflected on how things had been at same level of absurdity for the past three years, turning the steak knife over in his hands.

And Akamaru covered his eyes with his ears, slinking further under the chair and tipping the whole dining set over.

**x x x**

It was amazing, Shino later recalled, how it only took thirty seconds for Kiba's plan to go incredibly, horribly, wrong.

As he had resigned himself to doing, figuring it would be easier to just go along with Kiba than to argue, Shino was making a decorative arrangement out of strawberries and cool whip when he first smelled it. "It" being the acrid odor of melting plastic.

"Kiba, " he called, calmly setting down his knife and pulling off his gloves, "did you actually put tin foil in the microwave?"

Kiba stuck his head out of the freezer where he was digging through packs of frozen veggies to find ice cream. "Yeah, why?"

His teammate looked at him blankly.

"It's on fire."

"SHIT!"

Dropping the package of peas, Kiba sprinted over to the microwave which was already spitting tongues of blue flames and a cloud of poisonous-smelling black smoke.

"SHINO! GET SOME WATER RUNNING!" As Kiba frantically flung drawers off their hinges, Shino floated over and sharply flicked the faucet with waves of black disapproval radiating from his very being.

Finally, Kiba's happy polka-dotted mitts emerged from the drawer grasping a pair of salad tongs, and he booked it over to the microwave, ripped the door open and inserted the tongs. He extracted the flaming chocolate, a wildly panicked look on his face, and swung it around in a huge arc spraying molten plastic and fudge around the kitchen screaming,

"OHSHITOHSHITOHSHITOHSHIT!"

Shino watched his teammate flail helplessly from over by the sink.

"Fudge Brûlée à la Kiba."

Eventually, Kiba came to his senses, and dropped the flaming mess into the sink of water he had instructed Shino to prepare. Both boys remained still for a moment, looking on in faint disturbance as the fused fudge and plastic blob sank to the murky depths of the water with a sinister hiss.

Wiping a palm across his sweaty brow, Kiba remarked lightly, "Well. I guess we _won't_ use fudge then."

Shino bit his lip to dam up the torrent of sarcastic comments that arose from Kiba's statement. His teammate smiled brightly.

"Oh well, we still have ice cream!"

"You know that little voice that people have in their heads that tells them when to stop?" Shino asked, his voice quivering slightly, "You. Don't. Have. One."

But his wit was lost on Kiba who had already produced an ice cream scoop and was opening the tub of vanilla goodness.

"Grr," Kiba grunted, attempting to scoop the rock-hard frozen ice cream, "this is ooomph difficult."

" I would normally suggest popping it in the microwave, but I think we've already had enough fun with that particular appliance today. Plus you've also ruined the sink, so that gets rid of the option of running it under hot water..."

Kiba appeared to be making progress. "Hey, Shino! I think almost...got...it...oh shit." Kiba broke off, regarding what he'd done. Apparently, he had forced the scoop of ice cream so hard, it had flung out of the tub and landed, unfortunately, right in Shino's face.

Said Aburame, shaking ever-so-slightly out of rage, raised a hand and wiped his dripping, sticky face.

"You, sir," he proclaimed, flicking the watery ice cream at Kiba, "are _completely_ incompetent._"_

An awkward pause.

"..Riiiight..." Kiba muttered, rubbing the back of his head in embarrassment. "So...what about those candles?"

Shino simply snorted and stalked off to the darkness of the pantry.

**x x x**

They were just adding the sixteenth and very last delicate rose bud candle to the mess of cool whip and vaguely chocolate-y goop, when the surprise came to be.

Kiba, tongue stuck out in concentration, carefully placed the pale candle in place. "Aaaaand...DONE. Awesome. Now, that wasn't too hard was it?" Akamaru looked around at the utterly destroyed kitchen that Hinata would have to deal with when she came home and barked skeptically.

Shino just huffed and adjusted his bright pink glittery party hat.

"Now then," Kiba announced, snapping the elastic on his own party hat and fluffing the festive bow around Akamaru's neck, "When she comes in we have to-" But a faint squack of surprise cut him off.

There in the doorway, face passing through red to magenta at the sight of her precious kitchen, was the birthday girl herself.

"SURPRISSSSSSSSE!" Kiba yelled jovially, holding up the mess of sugar and artificial flavoring that was the birthday cake to which her kitchen had been sacrificed. His enthused expression fell into one of shock, however, when Hinata passed out cold on the floor.

Blowing half-heartedly on a noise maker as Kiba frantically attempted to revive their unconscious teammate, Shino muttered,

"Surprise indeed."

**x x x**

**A NOTE ON MY SECOND UNEXPLAINED HIATUS: well, don't you all want to know where i was this time? EMORY UNIVERSITY in Hotlanta, Georgia. I've been there for like a few weeks, actually. Don't worry, I'm actually still in high school so my stories won't have to compete with college homework, i was just there for a summer study thing.**

**I WILL BE HERE FOR THE ENTIRE REST OF THE SUMMER! it's only from August 13th onward that we'll be having problems, cause that's when school starts.**

**NEXT WHEN CARPOOLS GET UGLY CHAPTER will be published on SUNDAY, JULY 13th. awesome, i know you're all excited and it will be better than the rank awfulness of last chapter. get happy.**

**sorry once again, questions, comments, complaints or concerns, yall know where to find me. **

**BISCUIT**


	7. The Fashion Consultant

**The Fashion Consultant**

**Why: Because the Sand Sibs are love.**

**Notes: Short, random and pointless. Written in about ten minutes, this was inspired by a facebook photo comment I got about seven months ago.**

**x x x**

"How do I look?"

"Creepy."

He stepped back into the closet and rummaged about. Half a minute later he reappeared wearing a floor length white robe that made him look like a cult priest.

"How do I look now?"

"Creepy."

Back into the closet again.

"How about now?"

Kankuro eyed his brother appraisingly from his position on the couch taking in the black and red clothing covering almost every inch of Gaara's pale skin.

"Still creepy."

Pale blue eyes widened a bit as Gaara hatched an idea and popped back into the closet. Kankuro puffed out his cheeks, not sure if he was ready for what his brother had come up with now. His eyes refocused on the glossy pages of his magazine.

Gaara returned from the depths of the closet, his outfit exactly the same as before with one _major_ exception.

"Now?"

Kankuro's dark eyes narrowed at the enormous sequin-y red, green, and yellow sombrero perched on the Kazekage's head.

"..._Flamboyantly_ creepy."

Golden tassels twitched as Gaara nodded. His squinted up at his brother from beneath the wide brim of his hat.

"This pleases me."

"Good._ Now_ can we go out to eat?"

In answer, Gaara walked towards the door. His pale hand had closed around the handle, when it opened unexpectedly from the outside.

Temari's eyebrows drew together and her mouth opened as she took a breath, taking the in the sight before her and finally saying,

"..._.No._"

Gaara just shrugged and pushed past her, the sides of his sombrero folding over as he squeezed through the door.

**x x x**


	8. The Impasse

_The Impasse_

_-A Tale of Itachi, Zetsu, Tobi, and Home Improvement-_

_ahem._

**x x x **

Alas, even all the power of the Sharingan couldn't help him now.

Itachi's red eyes narrowed in a vain attempt to bend the will of the doorknob lying stubbornly at his feet. Sighing in a long-suffering manner, he bent over and picked up his current nemesis and assorted screws, nails, drill bits, and hammers that littered the floor, and dumped them into a toolbox. Enough feeling sorry for himself, it was time to proceed.

...Now, if only he knew _how_.

"Having issues, Uchiha?"

Itachi's eyes shifted to Zetsu's approaching form; his colleague's voice coming from giant plant unfurling out of the floor.

"I don't believe affixing a doorknob is outside the realm of my expertise, so _no_, I am _not _having issues."

**"Then what are you waiting for?"**

Itachi came as close as he ever did to huffing, and turned back to the door. He took the doorknob in one hand, and reached vaguely towards the toolbox with the other. He didn't even know which tool to use.

"Get the screwdriver....."

Zetsu supplied helpfully, the smirks on both halves of his face morphing together to make an amused grimace.

Internally, Itachi cheered. His jedi mind trick had worked- that was exactly the kind of smart remark he had needed Zetsu to make. Confidently, now, he grasped the screw driver and turned to face the plant, his up-yours expression firmly in place.

"I am aware of the proceedings from here. Go and fix lunch. I'll be done before you even get it on the table."

And Zetsu complied, still smirking as slunk back through the floor.

Itachi, meanwhile, was thrilled with himself.

Muahaha, he thought, only an Uchiha could BS his way through such a menacing challenge with his pride intact. He picked up a screw with one hand, holding the doorknob in place with the other, and then, inevitably, karma struck. He didn't have three hands for one thing, he couldn't even _begin_ to imagine where to insert the screwdriver, even if he had a free hand to hold it, and then, the icing on the cake, he dropped the screw. Itachi followed it with his failing eyes as it rolled innocently into the darkest corner of the hallway underneath a wall of shelves.

Itachi's anger mounted as he looked at the doorknob, which he was holding oh-so_ perfectly_ in place. Why couldn't it just _stay_ there? There_ had_ to be an easier way to do this. He was _Uchiha Itachi_, jutsu master and mass murder for god's sake.

But, sadly, there had never been a jutsu devised to replace doorknobs.

He had checked.

Glancing to make sure no one was watching him, Itachi got down on hands and knees and crawled after that pesky little screw. After many false discoveries in which he unearthed a moldy cheerio, several discarded clay bugs of Deidara's, and a cat toy, all of which, to his ultimate chagrin, he had to admit were not even _close _to being screw-shaped, Itachi realized he would need to break out the glasses.

They were embarrassingly large, with outdated, circular black frames, and took up half his face, magnifying his milky black eyes to three times their normal size. Just as he had his hand back into the corner, his face actually beginning to grow hot from his frustration, a grating cry of "WATCHA UP TO 'TACHI-SAAAAAAAN?!" interrupted Itachi's search, making him jump up and knock the shelf out of place. Furious at himself for being caught at such an un-ninja-like moment, Itachi whipped around to face Tobi, ripped the offending shelf off the wall, and incinerated it in a flash of black flame.

_"What."_

Itachi had his "GTFO and don't mess with me unless you want to die" tone going now, which worked wonderfully on everyone, _except_ Tobi.

"Watcha doooooin?" Tobi asked loudly, rocking back and forth on the spot.

"Re-affixing this knob to the door. Go away."

"Hmm....why is it taking you so long? Shouldn't you be done already?"

Itachi bristled, fighting his hardest to keep his Uchiha ice-princess face on despite the glasses.

"This is a delicate process Tobi, and is far out of your range of comprehension. Go play with something combustible."

Tobi put a hand to his chin and tilted his masked face upwards, clearly contemplating something.

"You know what this looks like to me?"

Itachi took three intensely focused deep breaths, exhaling extra sharply.

"_What_, pray tell?"

This chowderheaded lack-wit was about two and half seconds away from obliteration, the way Itachi saw it.

Tobi clapped his hands together, clearly delighted with his answer.

"You're getting _OLD_ 'Tachi-san!!"

That was it. You could almost hear Itachi's patience snapping, but Tobi, oblivious as always, continued blithely on."

"You know what tipped me off?" he whispered, leaning in conspiratorially.

Itachi's face barely,_ just barely_, twitched.

_"What."_

_"The glasses," _Tobi finished, nodding sagely.

Ooohhh, that brat had done it _now._

"Say Tobi, seeing as you are right and I am advancing somewhat in years, how would you like to have a very special job?"

Tobi nodded eagerly, missing the frigid chill in Itachi's voice that usually meant that someone was about to get it.

"How would you like to be....my...._apprentice_?"

"_OHHHH! " _squealed Tobi, delighted, "REALLY, 'TACHI-SAN? I GET TO BE YOUR APPRENTICE? DOES THAT MEAN I'LL BE FAMOUS TOO?!?"

Itachi forced his face into a kind smile, though at a closer look it had a totally evil undertone to it.

"Someday maybe, if you work hard enough."

Tobi's one visible eye glistened.

"Now, are you ready for your first lesson?"

Much vigorous nodding.

"Good. Hold this knob in place, just like that."

Tobi now was holding the doorknob exactly as Itachi had had it a moment before.

"Now, repeat after me."

"Now, repeat after me!" Tobi yelled, almost before Itachi was done with his sentence. Oh, this would be TOO easy.

"I, Tobi,"

"I, Tobi,"

"Do solemnly swear,"

"Do oh so very most solemnly swear,"

"To uphold my new danna's every instruction,"

"To uphold my new danna's every instruction,"

"To serve his every whim,"

"To serve his every whim,"

"And to never,"

"And to never,"

"_ever_,"

"Ever, ever, _EVAR_, in a million billion gagillion years NEVER,"

"Bother him again when he looks busy, even if he's _not _busy, or _just thinking_ about being busy."

"Bother him again EVER!" Tobi screamed, vowing with every last bit of his little Tobi heart.

"And I swear to never break this oath, because I know what will happen..."

Tobi gulped, then dutifully repeated.

"Excellent."

"Excellent."

"Now,"

"Now,"

`_"Gogaku no jutsu!"_

_"Gogaku no _wait WHA-?!"

Itachi smirked, oh-so-proud of himself for killing two birds with one stone, as he gleefully watched his giant fireball consume both the door and Tobi. Just then, Zetsu walked around the corner holding a plate with a grilled chicken sandwich and some chips on it.

"Itachi-san...." his light half began, "Why did you blow up the door and Tobi?"

Itachi smiled, walked past Zetsu and pulled the plate of lunch out of his hands.

"Now we can purchase a new door. One with the knob already attached. And as for Tobi....do you really _need_ a reason?"

Zetsu contemplated this a moment, then shrugged.

**"Fair enough."**

And Itachi, walking away, plucked a chip out of the pile and munched.

"Barbeque. My favorite.

**x x x**

**Note: I'm actually this clueless when it comes to this shit.**

**A semi-relevant note: Hear ye, hear ye, that I am not dead. It's really nothing personal, guys, nor is it a loss of interest in this, I PROMISE you. It's reality. I have a soul mate and a paying job (can I get a Huzzah?) and am as busy as ever. But as you all know, my fellow writers, creative expression is an insuppressable urge; even for me, who can't focus on anything for more than 10 minutes. (Hence, why I write so slow.) But I DO write. I just get all caught up and edit as I go, and it just gets to be a huge mess. But the mess continues. I will NEVER give up on ANY of my stories without fair warning. Carpools IS coming, for real, I have a few days to myself now. So until I change my name to Stupendo-fail, I am still, Medicinal Biscuit.**


	9. The Deep Fat Fryer

**A/N: **Based on a real-life experience I had at work. Yes, I actually know someone this stupid.

**The Deep Fat Fryer**

**Sasuke, Gaara, and Shikamaru; AU**

**-A study of just how little it takes to screw something up-**

**x x x**

Of all the exotic things Gaara had ever put in the fryer, it struck him as odd that something so organic and transient would do the most damage.

He bravely poked his head over the snack-bar counter, darting a guilty eye across the game floor. The arcade was still empty (it was a rainy, freezing sunday in November for god's sake), his manager was no where in sight, and he knew exactly where the degreaser was located.

He could fix this.

Maybe.

One Uchiha Sasuke, cashier extraordinaire, looked up from where he had been bunkered next to him, one of the excessively-gelled spikes in his hair poking Gaara heartily in the eye.

"Dumbfuck," he said, an air of complete stupefaction in his tone.

"Excuse me?"

"Dumbfuck, noun, one who is so stupid, it causes physical pain to all unfortunate enough to be in the immediate vicinity, which oftentimes results in more far-reaching consequences," he pointed to the steaming kitchen, "due to the profound lack of a brain."

"I know the definition, bastard. Explain."

"You could have blown this entire shit hole sky high, you know that?"

Sea-green eyes rolled.

"C'mon, Sasuke. I've put entire lemons, pepperonis, even fucking birthday candles in there before and nothing this bad has ever happened!"

"As unhealthy and law-suit worthy as that is, what's important is the chemical reactions. That's the difference between a birthday candle and a melon-sized block of ice"

Hairless eyebrows raised.

"So you're trying to tell me that ice was more harmful than all the wax and dye and shit in a birthday candle?" And this guy claimed to go to one of the best private schools in the city? Gaara was finding that hard to believe.

"Noo.." Sasuke drew out the word as if explaining this to a four year old. "The chemicals in the candle are more harmful to the customers, but the ice, when it comes in contact with such high temperatures, immediately melts and expands resulting in half and inch of boiling oil all over the kitchen. So, you tell _me_ which is more of a problem for _you_?"

Glaring bullets, Gaara had to admit, the bastard had him there.

"Touché."

**FLASHBACK**

"Three hundred and forty six"

"Three hundred and forty seven"

"Three hundred and forty eight"

"Three hundred and for...._whatever_."

By the three hundred and forty ninth time, Gaara had decided that bouncing a golf ball against the wall was getting a tad redundant.

You'd think working in an arcade would be more entertaining, yet, somehow (and Gaara himself wasn't really all that sure how this works, jaded as he was) you'd be mistaken. Either it was incredibly busy, with every child in the _city_ having their birthday party at e_xactly the same time_, or it was completely dead, as was the case today. Despite his nearly unbearable state of boredom, Gaara preferred the lazy afternoons when he could just ride the clock till the end of his shift to busy ones. Why? Two reasons. Firstly, customers are bitches, and secondly, it allowed one to find more...creative...uses for their time.

It was with this mentality that Gaara glided silently past Sasuke, who was methodically wiping down a mirror for probably the five millionth time that day, and slunk into the kitchen.

For lack of anything else to do, Gaara idly flipped open the ice machine, running a grubby hand over the misshapen cubes, his fingers coming to rest on a particularly promising hunk of ice that had melted together. Pale lips drew together and twitched ever so slightly into a malicious grin. Lifting the melon-sized block from amongst its frozen brothers, mischief in mind, he skimpered back behind the counter, past the pizza oven, stopping in front of the deep fat fryer.

Without a moment's hesitation, eagerly anticipating the results of his experiment, Gaara placed the ice into the fryer, lowering the ice and its metal cradle into the percolating black grease.

It struck him as amazing, later on, how it only took half a second for him to immensely regret doing so.

Almost instantly, half the ice was gone, and the black grease had gone from gently bubbling to ominously sizzling, a deep rattling sound coming from within the machine itself as it began to shake violently.

Eyes widening in shock, Gaara reached a shaking hand to the fryer, and pulled the ice out, moving more quickly and less gracefully than the could remember recently doing, and threw the fryer and the undissolved half of the ice into the sink.

But the damage was done.

The formerly black grease had been consumed by sickly yellow-orange bubbles as it poured out of the fryer from every imaginable orifice.

"Fuck."

And thus, Gaara found himself running like shit out of the kitchen, lest he be overtaken by boiling grease, while in the background the fryer was emitting a frightening cloud of smoke as the entire kitchen was overcome by steam, the sizzling and rattling reaching a crescendo.

Sasuke poked his head around the door frame just as Gaara was rounding the corner in a state of maximum panic.

"What's going- OOMPH"

He was silenced as Gaara was regrettably forced to make physical contact, swooping the indignant Uchiha up and diving over the snack bar counter.

**END FLASHBACK**

"Day-umn."

The two surveyed the ruined kitchen, Sasuke gleefully rejoicing at the final straw that would actually get his impossible co-worker fired. Maybe they would replace him with someone who actually gave a shit, and wouldn't add even more dead weight to the work team. Gaara, on the other hand, was engaged in a moral debate over wether to try to clean it up, or sneak upstairs with a mini-golf club and preemptively fuck Shikamaru's shit up. Unwittingly, Sasuke voiced his internal dilemma.

"So, what're you gonna do?"

"I guess...try to clean it up, but if Shikamaru finds out I'll...eliminate the possibility of this going on my resume, and quietly turn in my resignation. I'll go out heroically."

"'Eliminate the possibility...?' How would you do that?"

"With a golf club."

"Wha...?"

"Don't worry your spiky little head over it, Uchiha, hand me the degreaser and get the fuck out of my face."

**x x x**

And Sasuke complied. Wanting to be as far from the scene of the crime as possible (not that he was a pussy, of course, he wasn't afraid of getting caught, he just figured it was dumb to get in trouble over something the didn't even do), he busied himself with making cookies.

He turned on the oven and retreated into his happy place. He only hoped he could be there to see the look on his manager's face. Shikamaru might be as worthless as everyone else in this shit-hole, but even he couldn't ignore the fact that Gaara's ass was as good as fired.

**x x x**

Gaara watched Mr. Betty Crocker disappear into the freezer and continued using the squeegee fruitlessly to push the grease towards the drain. It had been half an hour since the incident, and even as slow as it was, it was still completely unbelievable that the fact that the fryer had almost exploded had gone unnoticed.

He had just decided it was impossible and was about to resign himself to asking Sasuke for help when he emerged from the freezer (after, which, of course, he would have to kill him), when the inevitable occurred.

From the distance, he heard the ominous jingling of keys: signaling the approach of a manager.

Before he could even compose himself, Shkiamaru poked his spiky head from behind the pizza oven, casually saying,

"Hey."

"..." Gaara was incapable of answering. His brain had gone to self-preservation mode, and if he didn't find out how this was gonna end soon, he was about to go batshit first and ask questions later.

Shikamaru surveyed the situation, munching on a macadamia nut cookie, roaming eyes pausing on the depleted grease levels in the still-leaking fryer, the squeegee in Gaara's hand, the mop on the floor and the bucket filled with degreaser.

Thus followed an incredibly loaded silence.

Finally,

"Do you know where Sasuke is?"

"In the freezer."

"Cool..huh huh..._literally_. Thanks man."

The sharp snap of the freezer door popped what was sure to be a stupendous moment of awkwardness.

Upon seeing that Shikamaru had entered the scene, Sasuke's face curled into a despicably evil sneer. Finally....that idiot was getting what he deserved.

Surprising both of them, however, Shikamaru turned to leave, sparing Sasuke an uncomfortably knowing look filled with dark amusement. He casually threw back over his shoulder,

"Oh, and, Gaara?"

Sasuke's insides squirmed uncomfortably. Gaara lifted one bald eyebrow.

"Great job on taking the initiative to clean the kitchen. Way to go."

Taking in Sasuke's dumbfounded expression, Gaara smirked in victory, sticking his tongue out at the Uchiha and the deep fat fryer.

"I win.

**x x x**

**End notes: The events in this story are accurate down to what the manager is eating and the lame pun he makes. Only the dialogue and the fact that the two hate each other is exaggerated. I was the Sasuke in the story, but I don't hate the Gaara. He's funny.**

**Also: update news is on my profile! Things are kind of getting under control, so..yeah. Good news for this account. You know where to find me,**

**BISCUIT**


End file.
